


the colors are different (foreign and beautiful)

by kritiquer



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, elu meet at a party au, they break up but they get back together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:01:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22135234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kritiquer/pseuds/kritiquer
Summary: He’s considering ditching as he surveys the crowd one last time, and places his empty cup on a windowsill.And that’s when he had seen him, moving his head to the beat dorkily, his hair tousled and catching the light, highlighting it in shades of deep red and yellow, leaving a softer blue to flit across his face and mix with his eyes.He was taller than Lucas, and dressed in a brown jacket that would’ve been jarringly unfashionable had it been draped on anyone else.or, an au where Lucas and Eliott meet at a party
Relationships: Eliott Demaury/Lucas Lallemant
Comments: 4
Kudos: 77





	1. Chapter 1

They had met at a party, music and chatter blending to a cacophony in Lucas’ ears as he stood in a corner and leaned his head back against the wall.

He’d come to the party at his friends’ insistence, who had all claimed that he had missed out on far too many already.

And so he had reluctantly agreed, painting on a smile until all three of them had blended in with the crowd, leaving him to mope as much as he wished.

He knew he was being dramatic: he didn’t have any catastrophic excuses behind his elusive behavior, and he’d chalked it up to stressful classes and his father ignoring his messages.

In fact, if Lucas could just scrape up a bit more courage, he’d go right to his doorstep, demanding that he see him, that he pay attention for once.

But he doesn’t, so he scrolls absentmindedly though his Instagram and surveys the crowd occasionally, a mask of boredom and indifference itchy against his face.

He’s considering ditching as he surveys the crowd one last time, and places his empty cup on a windowsill.

And that’s when he had seen him, moving his head to the beat dorkily, his hair tousled and catching the light, highlighting it in shades of deep red and yellow, leaving a softer blue to flit across his face and mix with his eyes.

He was taller than Lucas, and dressed in a brown jacket that would’ve been jarringly unfashionable had it been draped on anyone else.

Lucas stared as the boy continued to dance, his arms above his head and a glow stick ring resting on his head.

And as if fate had decided to lend him a hand, just this once, the boy looked up and caught Lucas’ eyes.

Once, twice, thrice before he finally made his way over, a small bounce in his step.

“Hey,” he whispered, and Lucas felt his breath catch.

His voice was soft as he introduced himself, each word picked carefully as if just for Lucas.

Lucas repeated his name, as if testing it out, and the boy--Eliott--smiled in return.

“And you are?”

“Lucas.”

“Nice to meet you, Lucas,” Eliott had replied, and before Lucas could blink, taken the glow stick ring off his head and placed it on Lucas’.

And so it had begun.

It was great, really, at the start. They went on silly dates and he’d introduced Eliott to le gang, who’d loved him almost immediately. He’d wake up with a note crumpled against his cheek, go to bed with a dozen good night texts. It was great, really, until it wasn’t.

Eliott had walked into Lucas’ life as quickly as he had left it: smearing everything with a shade of suffocating blue, handing him his belongings with shaky hands and leaving the scent of cinnamon lingering in the air.

They had met at a party, and Lucas didn’t think he could attend one again without seeing Eliott in every crevice, every boyish laugh, every brown jacket. No, he didn’t think he could do it at all.


	2. Chapter 2

“Alright, that’s it!” 

Lucas barely has time to open his mouth and protest before the blanket is harshly snatched off him, sickeningly bright sunlight streaming in through the windows and warming his face sharply as his blanket can no longer serve as a filtering cocoon. 

“What is it?” Lucas snaps, but even he can hear the misery sticking to his voice and wrapping around his words. 

“I’m sick and tired of seeing you be sad, chaton,” Mika explains, swiftly throwing the blanket over his shoulder, where it rests as a makeshift cape before drooping to the ground in a sad puddle. 

_ Then leave,  _ Lucas wants to say, but instead he feels his lip wobble at Mika’s concerned gaze, and shifts his eyes to the ground.

“Listen,” Mika’s tone softens as he sits down on the bed, gently ruffling Lucas’ hair. “I know it hurts right now, but you can’t let it take your life away from you. So mope as much as you want to, stay holed up in your room for as long as you need to, but remember that life will go on. And you’ll be okay. Maybe not right now, but you will be. Okay, Lucas?” 

Lucas nods, his words caught in his mouth. Mika seems to understand, and gives him a quick hug and kisses his forehead. 

“I’m here if you need to talk, okay?” he reminds him, before kicking his blanket under the bed and leaving, the door falling shut behind him. 

And Lucas is sick of it. Sick of feeling like he wasn’t enough to get Eliott to stay, that he wasn’t strong enough to deal with him leaving in the first place. Break-ups aren’t supposed to hurt this much, are they? 

*

It takes a week for Lucas to get his act together, and another for it to be fairly convincing. He goes to his trite job at the local coffee place, eats dinner with Mika and Manon, tags along to the skate park with le gang: normal. He doesn’t tell anyone that Eliott’s sweatshirts still hang in his closet, or that his pens litter Lucas’ desk. Nor does he tell them that he still makes popcorn every Thursday out of habit of a movie night, before leaving it in the kitchen for someone else to steal. 

Because there’s really no point, is there? He doesn’t think he can stand another pitied glance or sympathy soaked voice. Mika suggests taking down the pictures of Eliott and him from his walls, and Lucas ends up adjusting each of them instead. 

No one asks him why they broke up, and Lucas is thankful. He doesn’t wholly know the answer himself. What made Eliott walk out as if it was  _ easy,  _ as if Lucas’ life hadn’t suddenly been split into  _ before  _ and  _ after,  _ as if what they’d had wasn’t something that had spun his world around? 

“Lucas,” Arthur knocks lightly on his forehead, and Lucas blinks. 

Had they all been silent the entire time, or had they just plunged themselves into it after realizing that Lucas had stopped nodding along to the conversation? 

“I heard some first-year’s throwing a party tomorrow,” Arthur explains, “and you know how desperate first years are to prove themselves, so I think we should go.” 

“Would you come, Lucas?” Yann adds. 

Lucas looks at the concerned expression on all their faces like a permanently etched pattern, and he wants nothing more than to scrub it off. He’s fine, he needs to be fine, and he’s sure soon he will be. He has to be. And so he smiles, the smile elastic but realistic enough for the boys to cheer, and Arthur lightly ruffles his hair.  _ It’s just a party.  _

*

Lucas thinks he’s seen the same tell-tale strobe lights enough times to picture them with his eyes closed, angry reds and brilliant blues dancing off the walls and slithering on the floor. Yann and Basile blended in with the crowd after promises to be back soon, but Arthur stays right next to him, grimacing at the contents of his drink. 

“This is disgusting,” he finally admits, shaking the cup back and forth. “Wanna try?” 

Lucas raises his own cup in response, and Arthur’s smile dims measurably. 

“Listen,” he starts, and Lucas knows he’s going to be softly lectured by another one of his friends. It’s even worse that it’s Arthur: kind, sweet Arthur who wouldn’t ever judge or snap at him but looks like he’s seconds away from doing just that. 

“I know, I know,” Lucas interrupts, and he can’t stand it. He’d been doing a fairly good job of convincing them that he was alright, hadn’t he? 

“I think we should leave.” Arthur says instead, balancing his cup on the window sill and doing the same with Lucas’. 

He grabs Lucas’ wrist gently and leads him to the door, oddly insistent and determined. Suspicion begins to pool in Lucas’ mind but he can’t help but let Arthur drag him away, knowing Arthur probably has something in mind. They’re almost at the door before he catches sight of a familiar brown jacket, slung confidently on someone he’d tried so desperately to forget. He stiffens, and hears Arthur curse under his breath. 

For a moment Lucas’ heart swells with his friend’s kindness, then breaks when he realizes why. Eliott looks just like he did all those months ago, the blue lights harsh against his face now, no longer soft and flittery as they used to seem. Lucas watches as a girl approaches him, and says something that makes him laugh, throwing his head back and letting red light stream down in ribbons, overtaking the blue. And this time, when Arthur grabs his arm and drags him out the door, he lets him. 

*

The next time he sees Eliott, it’s been months. He’s still figuring out who he is if he isn’t Lucas&Eliott, but his smiles are a little less fake and his eyes a little more dry. Eliott’s switched out his jacket for a soft green turtleneck, the one he only wore on special occasions. Lucas curses his manager for having him work as a cashier today rather than help out in the back, and taps his fingers against his leg as he Eliott strolls up to the counter. 

He half-listens as Eliott lists off his order, one he knows by heart and scribbles it down onto a cup for his co-worker to make. 

“Lucas,” Eliott calls out when he hands him his drink, but Lucas is turning away. 

He can’t, not in public, not in front of his co-workers that watch on with acute sympathy, not when Eliott is wearing his prettiest turtleneck and showing up to his work unannounced, not  _ now.  _ And so he continues walking to the back, and doesn’t return until his coworker informs him that he’s gone.

*

But, as luck would have it, he bumps into him again outside his apartment. And maybe it’s fatigue or the way the streetlights hit Eliott’s hair, but he lets Eliott stop him from walking away. 

“Can we talk? Please?” Eliott pleads, and Lucas sighs but allows Eliott to come up to the apartment with him. 

It isn’t until they’re in Lucas’ room until either of them say anything, and Lucas starts regretting it immediately. What if he’d just come here to tell him he’s moved on? Wouldn’t he be such a fool, then, for not having moved on yet himself? But the first thing to come out of Eliott’s mouth is an apology instead, words crashing and sticking to each other in a rush to get out.  _ I didn’t want to leave I never meant to leave, not you never you.  _

“Why did you do it then?” Lucas forces his voice to steel, hiding his trembling hands in his pockets. 

“I thought it would be better for you,” Eliott confesses, “I was stressed with uni and you were stressed with school and I wasn’t in a place where I could be what I wanted to be, for you.” 

Lucas’ knees hit the back of his bed as he sits down, his posture taut. At Lucas’ silence, Eliott keeps going, his voice softening. 

“And I see now that it was a mistake, a stupid and reckless decision I made on a whim. I’m sorry, Lucas, I never meant to hurt you.” 

_ But you did.  _

Lucas watches as Eliott waits for his response, toying with the string of his hoodie with his eyes fixated on the floor, uncertainty piercing his words as he repeats them.  _ I never meant to hurt you.  _ And Lucas can’t believe that Eliott would, even for a second, think that Lucas hadn’t spent the last few months in a dreary despair, his actions dictated more by habit than will and a numb fog settling over his mind. It had always been Lucas&Eliott, for as long as he can remember, for the time that mattered. Why would it be any different now? 

“Fuck, Eliott,” he whispered, and Eliott met his eyes for a brief second before shifting his gaze elsewhere. “Don’t you dare do that ever again.” 

Eliott’s eyes widen as he comes closer, relief spreading across his face as his hands slip from his hoodie and Lucas reaches for one of them. 

“Please,” Lucas repeats, and he can feel tears streaming down his face, mirroring the ones on Eliott’s. “Don’t do it again.” 

“I won’t,” Eliott promises, drawing Lucas up into his arms. “Never again.” 

And later, when they’ve both exchanged enough kisses and drank enough tea to settle in for the night, Eliott whispers  _ can I stay?  _ into the easy silence, watching as Lucas says nothing in return but lets the corners of his mouth turn up in a barely-there smile, and Eliott hums in understanding. 

_ You better.  _

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on [tumblr](http://kritiquer.tumblr.com)!


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